


Breakfast Club (We're not broken, just bend)

by Tharin47



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton Friendship, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Gen, Happy Tower AU, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, implied starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tharin47/pseuds/Tharin47
Summary: Breakfast is not what it used to be, and Steve is a lot like Ben Cartwright.Or: Barton and Barnes bond over Breakfast, Bonanza, and having been brainwashed. Somebody should have seen this coming.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Avengers fic! This is a little snippet I've wrote down in a notebook some years ago. It takes place in some kind of "Happy Tower AU", where the events of CA: TWS played out a little differently. SHIELD did not fall, and I think in this universe, Steve handled the knowledge about how Maria and Howard were murdered a little better. But this is not the story right now. This story is just Bucky, trying to adjust to... everything, actually. But mostly food.

Days in the tower are strange, at first.

Everything is strange, at first.

Figuring out how to live without orders, figuring out how to live.

After he finds Steve again - _but I knew him_ \- the only familiar thing in this world - they end up in Stark's tower. It takes nearly a month for the Soldier - _Bucky, your name is Bucky_ \- to get off the drugs Hydra had be pumping into his system.

His mind is mostly still blank, but there are little pieces of memories coming back.

If the whole process is going this slowly, he'd need another 70 years to get everything back.

The 21. Century is amazing in many ways, but one thing that Bucky will never get used to is the sheer amount of food that people can choose from. (At least here, he knows that's different in poorer countries. Or for people who are not Tony Stark).

But much of the food tastes wrong. He does not remember enough to determine what exactly is missing, but the food he remembers was different.

He does not mention it, at first. He's too glad to be allowed real food, without limits, to jeopardize it. Later, he is afraid it's just his memory that is wrong. Again.

But when he finally finds the courage to mention it to Steve, Steve nods: "I know. A lot of things are too sweet now, aren't they? And I don't know what they did with bananas, but they taste like cardboard."

A few weeks later, Bucky finds himself in the kitchen, determined to get it right.

Breakfast. It can't be too hard to make scrambled eggs and oatmeal.

Once again, it had been the sound of his own screaming that woke him. It was only four a.m., but he could not go back to sleep anyway. And he had a sudden craving for breakfast.

Steve had tried to make him understand, again and again, that he could eat all the food he wanted, whenever he wanted. He had only tested this in small ways. No time like the present to find out if there is an exception to the blanket permission. (He is halfway sure that even if he makes a mistake, Steve would still allow him to eat.)

The main kitchen is big, but it didn't take him long to find what he needed. Soon, he sets some water and milk on the stove. Oatmeal and scrambled eggs sounded about right. He is sure he had made them many times before - in another life.

He gets a little lost in thought, stirring eggs in a bowl, but he hears the steps long before the man steps into his sight. He is one of the Avengers who actually is able to move silently, but they all made a conscious effort not to startle him, always alerting him to their presence.

"Hey, can't sleep?" the archer asks. Bucky shrugs. 

"Smells like you're making oatmeal." Barton observes.

Bucky nods, and moves over to stir the oatmeal. He turns down the heat a little bit, and turns back to the eggs.

"My mother used to make them this way, stretched with milk, to last longer." Barton offers.

"Never had much.", Bucky says. "Food needed to last."

"This means the oatmeal is also half milk, half water, right?"

"On good days. Sometimes it was just water with a taste of milk."

Bucky raises the heat, and starts to cut a tomato in small cubes. "The food today tastes strange. Many things are better, but some food is just wrong."

He could get a dozen tomatoes from the fridge, but that's not the point. They had to be economical with their food stock. It won't taste the same if he's changing things.

He decides to mix in a little bit of cheese. Sometimes, they had cheese. And bacon, if it was a special day - Sunday? Sunday is what the special day was called - if they were really lucky. This memory is strangely clear - unlike most of the other, who come back tumbling and in disarray. It's nice to get a good one back, something from before.

The oatmeal is nearly done, and he prepares the eggs in the few minutes it's got left cooking. "Toast?" Barton asks. Bucky thinks about it. They had toast sometimes - on Sundays, most likely. He has no idea what day it actually is, so he might as well pretend. He nods.

Barton makes toast and sets the table. The coffee is also done. He made a pot on the oven, because while the coffeemaker and it's variety is awesome, he wants everything to be like he remembered. Strong, hot coffee without any fancy new ideas. They sit, and Barton gestures to him. "Do the honours?"

Bucky completes, dishing out the food. He could take Barton down without much fuss. Besides, he does not think this is a trap. Maybe Barton tries to get a memory right, just like him.

The other man takes a bite and smiles. "Just like Mom's. Nice."

Bucky eats, too. It does taste like before, just like he remembered. The oatmeal is not sickling sweet like the stuff Wilson cooks. The eggs are good, too. Finally, something his memory got right.

They share the rest of the meal in silence, watching the sun rise over Manhattan.

(Night time cooking becomes a habit, after that. Barton knows how to be quiet, and sometimes Bucky likes company.) 


	2. Chapter 2

The thing about modern television is, there are too many programs to choose from. Not that Stark would have television like normal people, but that just makes it worse.

Apparently he has a library with almost every movie ever made, or something quite close.

Steve and Bucky are working their way through a list of movies. Chronologically, because the stuff from the 50s still looks familiar, and this way they get used to special effects and modern storytelling very slowly. (Stark wanted to show them something called "Star Wars" right away, but Pepper put in her veto.)

The only exception are trick movies. They existed in the 40s, too, and even the ones made entirely from a PC are all right. Besides, Steve loves them.

They also started a few TV series. Steve was exited to get introduced to the "Lone Ranger" series by someone named Coulson. They've used to hear episodes on the wireless, back when they were kids. He was Steve's childhood hero.

("This comes as a surprise to no one" , Stark had said. "Hear me? _Absolutely no one!_ ") 

  
Somehow, this has led them to Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and various other similar shows. "Bonanza" has apparently run 14 seasons, so they have more than enough to watch. The stories are nice, even if sometimes very predictable, after a while.

  
Right now, they are watching an episode in the main living room, when Barton comes in. He takes one look at the chase onscreen and screws up his face: "How can they even hit something?! That angle, and backwards on a moving horse, that's ridiculous!"

  
On screen, Ben Cartwright and his sons manage to outrace their pursuers, even shooting some more of them in the process.

  
Bucky shrugs. "Most of the television is awfully unrealistic. Especially when it comes to shooting. But Steve here likes it."

  
"It has great stories!" Steve says. "And I like Western in general."

  
"You like it because of the moral of always doing the right thing. Ben Cartwirght, that's is basically you." Bucky says.

  
"Yeah, minus the wives." Barton adds. 

  
***

The first time Steve learns about their breakfast club is because they're late.

Bucky actually slept better, and Barton had been on a mission. Bucky only wakes up at six a.m., instead of three. As he wanders into the kitchen, he starts to make coffee. A few minutes later, Barton stumbles in. He apparently just got back, and had not even been to bed.

  
"Oh, man, I hoped you'd be late. Could we make pancakes?" Barton asks.

  
Bucky smiles. Pancakes are pure comfort food, and Barton looks like shit. He probably needs hot chocolate, too.

  
A look at the clock tells him that Steve is going to come back from his morning run soon, so he prepares a big breakfast. Like he thought, the smell stirs Steve right into the kitchen. His eyes go wide: "Bucky?"

"Breakfast?" Bucky asks. Steve blinks, and sits down at the table. He eyes the food in front of him and raises his eyebrow. "Were you expecting me?"

  
"We're late." Barton says, and Steve actually jumps. He turns around to look at Barton, perched at the counter next to the stove, where he's trying to steal pancakes out of the pan.

  
"Clint! When did you get back?"

  
Barton yarns: "Just now. Brought something back, too."

He tries to steel another pancake, and Bucky slaps his wrist with the spoon - lightly. Barton glares, and Bucky grins. "Got to be faster, kid."

  
"Oh, come on! I'm starved! I had a shitty mission, shitty intel, and stupid, megalomaniac evil scientists! I deserve pancakes!"

  
"Sit!" Bucky points with the spoon. He learned to read Barton well enough during the last weeks. If he's whining, he's fine. Barton grumbles, but complains. As he sits down, Bucky hands him a cup of hot chocolate. The real kind, with milk.

  
"Okay, you're the best." Barton says. "Even if you guard the pancakes."

  
Steve follows this with a slightly open mouth. He looks ... confused.

  
"So you ... do this often?" he asks carefully.  
Bucky has a moment to worry if Steve is displeased, then Barton answers with a shrug: "Making breakfast? It's normally members only, but I guess we could make an exception for you."

He looks at Bucky: "He's not a brainwashed ex-assassin, but he's been frozen for 70 years. Does that count?"

  
Steve doesn't looks displeased or angry, just very, very confused. Bucky's lips twitch involuntary, and the answer comes unexpected even to himself: "I've spend a long time feeding him, it be a waste of my work to stop now."

  
***

"So this is where you went." a new voice says from the doorway.

  
The man standing there looks like an accountant. Bucky knows better, because the expensive suit and the careful projection of harmlessness hide at least three weapons.

  
"Hey, Coulson. Sorry, but I don't think you meet the requirements for our little breakfast club." Barton says.

  
"I was dead. Does that count?" Coulson answers.

Bucky shrugs: "As long as you're not a zombie."

  
"I'm very sure Tony was just pulling our leg with this one." Steve says.

From the way the corners of Barton’s mouth twitches, Bucky is also very sure. Still, one can never be too careful.

  
Coulson takes a step into the kitchen and offers his hand to Bucky. "Sargent Barnes? I'm Phil Coulson. It's an honour to meet you."

Bucky blinks. Not many people outside the Avengers try to treat him like a normal person.

  
Coulson takes a seat next to Barton, and they start breakfast. Steve throws little sideway glances at Bucky, like he's not sure what has happened. Bucky himself is not sure what happened, except that he likes cooking, and Barton seems to know how to keep him company without intruding.

  
Ten minutes later, Barton yawns and puts his head against Coulson's shoulder, seemingly falling asleep. Coulson calmly finishes his breakfast, and tries to get Barton to stand up afterwards.

  
"Come on, let's get you into bed." he says.

"Promises, promises." Barton says, snuggling closer.

"Maybe when you're not dead asleep on your feet." Coulson answers. There's warmth and affection in his voice, and he keeps an arm around Barton's shoulders as they wait for the elevator.

  
"So, that's Barton's partner." Bucky says.

Steve nods. "Yeah. They don't get to see each other so often."

  
Bucky still hasn't gotten used to the fact that people can be so open about that. Strange, but nice to know that some things have changed. He watches them go, and asks Steve: "And who is Phil Coulson, aside from Barton's partner?"

"He’s our liaison officer to SHIELD."

****

A few weeks later, Coulson is back. Bucky has moved from breakfast to cooking dinner sometimes. It's relaxing to mix a bunch of food in so many ways, and get so many different results. There are so many kinds of food now. He is sure that he could cook something new each day for years without having to repeat himself.

  
This evening he has decided to try something mexican. Enchiladas are a kind of comfort food, too. He's chopping up vegetables when there are voices from the hallway.

  
He recognizes Stark: "... but the actual firepower would ..."

  
"No!", Coulson's voice is firm. "Stark, you are not going to install rocket launchers in Lola!"

  
"But, Agent! It would be ..."

  
"... sooo cool! Not to mention useful!" And that's Barton.

  
The three of them step into the kitchen, and Steve, who had insisted to help cooking, looks up from his work.

"Hallo Coulson, good to see you back! Clint, Tony: who is Lola, and why would she need rocket launchers?"

  
Coulson gladly explains, and shows off photographs like a proud parent.

"A flying car? Really?" Bucky asks. "That's so cool!"

"Well, yes." Coulson says, with a confused, but pleased little smile.

Bucky turns to Steve. "You told me there were no flying cars."

Steve looks curious, too. "I was told that there weren't."

"It's well, one of a kind.", Coulson explains. "They aren't mass produced." 

"They promised us flying cars in all the SciFi stories. It was kind of disappointing that it didn't come true." Bucky says.

"Normal traffic is worse enough.", Stark grumbles. "Can you imagine what people would get up to if you gave them flying cars?!"

"Says the man who flies around in a robot suit." Barton says, trying to get closer to the stove. Predictably, he tries to steel some of the vegetables.

"I'm special!" Stark says.

"If you like, you could take a look at her after Dinner.", Coulson offers. "She needs to get some repairs, but Stark assured me she's going to be fine."

It takes a moment for Bucky to realize that this offer is meant for him, but then he smiles. "Sure, thanks."

  
***

A few hours later, they're back. Lola is a dream to drive, not to mention to fly. Bucky says as much to Coulson, when Barton hears them.

  
"You let him _drive_?! I had to wait months until you let me touch this car, let alone sit in it. And it took a whole year and you being shot in three places until you let me drive!"

Coulson raises an eyebrow: "You tried to eat a taco in her. You'd leave food all over the seats if I'd let you."

Bucky grins at Barton: "She's a lady. You got to treat her like one."

Barton narrows his eyes at him: "Don't tell me you're ganging up on me! Dude, you're my breakfast buddy, you're supposed to be on my side! It's in the rules!"

"We have rules?"

  
Barton let his head hit the table.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Bucky had met all of the Avengers, except the infamous Black Widow. Sure, Barton talks about her all the time, but she was on a deep undercover mission to root out some Hyrda scientists. In Belgium, of all places.

  
But one morning there's a pretty redhead sitting next to Clint in the kitchen. Natasha Romanoff, as it turns out, also qualifies for membership of the breakfast club. 

("Less brainwashed and more child-soldier assassin. But that counts, right?" Barton had said. Bucky had nodded, horrified at the idea that someone would force a child to kill people.)

  
She seems to be wary of him, not exactly afraid, but also not really comfortable in his presence. He can't blame her, but he thinks that she is one of the few persons who can hold their own against the Winter Soldier, so her behaviour seems strange.

Not that he is an expert on human behaviour. Most of the time, people still puzzle him.

The explanation comes a few weeks later, after a discussion at dinner somehow ended with the topic of fighting a bear. 

“I’ve done that for real. No need to repeat it.” Natasha said.

“You've fought a bear?!” Steve asks, bewildered. 

“They dropped us in the wilderness for survival training when we were twelve. Our group caught the attention of a bear. We had to kill him.”

“They’ve dropped twelve year old children in the woods where they’d get attacked be bears?! That’s absolutely disgusting!”, Bucky can’t help himself. “What the hell was that supposed to be good for?”

Steve looks as upset as himself. Barton and Coulson seem to know this story. But Natasha is staring at him with wide eyes.

“That’s what you’ve said the first time.” She whispers.

“The first time?” Bucky asks, but she abruptly stands and leaves the room. He turns, but the others look as confused as he is.

In the end, he follows her. This might be the elephant in the room, and maybe he’ll get an answer.

He finds her on the roof tucked into secluded corner, looking over the city. He hovers, not sure of his welcome. Natasha doesn’t acknowledge his presence, but she starts speaking:

“I’m older then I look. My memories don’t fit together, but evidence suggests I was part of a program in the 1950ths."

He blinks. One would think he’d be used by now to all this weird stuff, everything from super soldiers to gods and aliens. But she doesn’t look older then 30, and it’s hard to wrap his head around the fact that she’s like Steve.

Natasha looks amused by his expression, and he knows his face is an open book, right now.

“The training – my childhood is something I remember – but I can’t say if it’s been 25 or 65 years. The details are blurry. One day, they’ve brought in a new weapons instructor. A man with a metal arm and no past.”

He meets her eyes, shock clearly visible. “I … I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.”

Natasha only nods. “It must have been early in your captivity. My guess is that they were still trying to figure out how to turn you into a perfect weapon, but it hadn’t taken yet. You were still human, back then.”

It’s said a matter of factly, but he still flinches.

"This is why I act strange around you. In my head, you're still Yasha. But he doesn't exists anymore." 

"I'm sorry", Bucky offers. 

"Not your fault." Natasha said. 

"Tell me about him?" he asks uncertainly. 

Natasha smiles, a sad little smile. But she tugs her feet under her, and starts talking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snippet with Bucky and Natasha was the last part of the Breakfast Club. I might write more someday, but right now, it's finished. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or gave kudos!


End file.
